


Share The Weight With Me

by BoxedWine



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Comfort/Angst, Drinking to Cope, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-02-09 22:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxedWine/pseuds/BoxedWine
Summary: Since the spoiler ban has been lifted, I'm moving the summary to the main page BUT*AVENGERS: ENDGAME SPOILERS IN THIS STORY* Stop now if you haven't seen it.Spoilers: The world is trying to figure things out now that the snap has been undone. People struggle to cope with the loss of five years of their lives and others struggle with the pain of those ensuing years. You used alcohol to cope with the pain after the snap and the pain of losing Bucky (who you secretly loved), as well as your other friends and family. Now he's back, but you must move past the loss of Tony and Nat and find your place in a very different world. You were Bucky's support in Wakanda. Now he wants to be yours.





	1. Bar Brawl

The plan to stick to beer was a bust. Not because you drank anything else, but because you’d convinced yourself you wouldn’t get drunk tonight.

The man at the table next to you was still speaking loudly. Drunkenly. Obnoxiously. Slightly slurring his words. You watched a drop of condensation roll down the side of your bottle as you gritted your teeth at his stupidity.

“I’m juss saying. I think Iron Man could have done things differently. And I could have had my five years back. I just think the Avengers blew it.”

A woman sitting next to him said, “God, you’re ungrateful. He freakin’ died to bring you back.”

“But he didn’t have to die. The whole plan was just so-”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” You hurled your empty bottle and it barely missed his head. “You piece of shit. Tony’s gone, but we have you. Lucky us. Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”

“You, bitch! Nobody is talking to you!” The man jumped up and started to move towards you.

As you leapt from your own seat, you recognized you were very drunk and out of control, but the rage was so intense it clouded everything. You didn’t care. Tonight you would take your pain out on this asshole. 

His friends grabbed for his arms, but he lunged at you and pushed you backwards. Once you regained your footing, you began to land punches and kicks until he was lying on the floor of the bar at your feet, pleading and begging you to stop.

You crouched down by his head and quietly whispered, “You know who taught me how to do that? Natasha Romanov. During the five years she spent agonizing over the loss of garbage like you. Before she also died so you could sit in a bar talking shit like an ungrateful piece of trash.”

You stood and stumbled out the door just in time for a police car to pull up in front of you.

“That’s her!” your bloody victim yelled as you sighed and put your hands up in a show of peace.

The cuffs snapped loudly, and as the officer placed you in the back seat, you heard someone yell, “Let her go! He had it coming!” Followed by cheering and clapping. You leaned your head back and let the booze carry you from consciousness. 

***

“Ma’am?” the clanging of the cell door roused you from your sleep on the hard bench. “You’ve made bail,” a young, female officer said, motioning for you to exit. She led you out to a room where you groaned at the sight of Bucky Barnes leaning against a wall in a black jacket and jeans. 

“We have enough to handle with all the returnees without this kind of drama from someone who should clearly know better if they are being bailed out by someone affiliated with the Avengers,” an older officer said sharply, handing you your stuff.

Bucky was silent as he placed a hand on your back and led you out to his car. He opened your door and made sure you were buckled before getting in on his side. When he finally got in, rather than turn the car on, he turned and looked at you.

“What happened?” he asked quietly in a non-accusatory voice. 

“That- that FUCKING ASSHOLE deserved it!” you spat. “I can’t stand these armchair quarterbacks who think they know how things could have been fixed BETTER. I wish some of them were still gone.”

Bucky reached out and gently lifted your chin. “People are still traumatized and scared. They are trying to make sense out of the unfathomable.”

“Well they can do it without criticizing MY DEAD FRIENDS!” you snapped, immediately regretting it when you saw Bucky wince.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. 

“It’s okay. I know you’re hurting over Nat and Tony. But you can’t do things like this. You know you can come and talk to me, right?”

You nod and lean your head against the window as Bucky turns the key in the ignition.

***

“This isn’t the way to my place.”

“I’m taking you to the compound. You can crash in your old room.”

“Why?”

“I’m not leaving you alone like this.”

“I’m sobering up. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re upset and I’m not taking you home to an empty apartment. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

Bucky escorted you back to the room you’d lived in during those nightmarish five years, helping Nat coordinate efforts across the universe. For a moment, you felt the tears swell, but you swallowed the emotions down. You slumped in the chair as he dug through the closet for bedding you left behind and made the bed for you. Then he returned to the closet to grab some pillows and you noticed he was standing still, clutching something in his hand.

Your stomach plummeted when you realized what he’d found. Your extra pillow with one of his old shirts on it as a covering. You could tell he recognized it by the way he was looking at it, even though he hadn’t seen it since he was in Wakanda recovering, even though it’s faded from years of tears and your face pressing into it as if you could make him reappear inside it with your determination alone. You’d cried so hard when you’d had to admit that his scent was gone and Nat had demanded you finally wash it because it was becoming straight up unsanitary. You bit your lip, waiting for the humiliating question to come. But it didn’t. He set the pillow down on the bed with the others and pretended there was nothing strange going on. 

“I’ll make you some breakfast in the morning,” he said.

You nodded and stared at the floor, startled when he suddenly embraced you. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

“Okay.”

He left, shutting the door quietly behind him. You crawled into bed and tossed and turned over the course of the next few hours.

***

A soft tap on the door woke you in the morning.

“Breakfast is ready,” Bucky called through the door.

“Coming,” you croaked out in a raspy voice. For the first time, you noticed Bucky had left some Motrin and water by the bed and you quickly swallowed both.

When you got to the kitchen, Bucky had laid out pancakes, eggs and bacon, with slices of avocado, coffee and orange juice.

“This is a lot of food, Bucky, even for a super soldier.”

“Sam’s around somewhere. So is Wanda.”

“Oh good.” You immediately cheered up at the chance to see them. 

“What am I? Chopped liver?”

“I’m very happy to see you, Buck. I’m just embarrassed about last night. Thank you for coming to get me. And for breakfast.”

Bucky walked over to you and leaned in your face. Your breath caught in your throat as his hair brushed your cheek. 

He gently placed his hand on your cheek and inspected your right eye. 

“He got you good. You’ve got a lovely black eye going there. I should have given you ice last night. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You did more than enough.”

Bucky handed you a bag of peas and you placed it on the swelling, mostly to appease him. You didn’t really give a shit.

Bucky took a seat across from you and you both began to eat in silence. You were halfway through your meal before you realized he was watching you intently.

“What?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“No need. I’m fine. Just overdid it last night.”

He shook his head and held your gaze.

“I’m worried.”

“Bucky, the last thing I want to do is give you more stuff to worry about. I’m sorry. I promise nothing like this will happen again.”

“I just-” he stopped and was clearly trying to find right words. “The way you’ve been dealing with what happened-”

“Breakfast!” Wanda said excitedly, as she walked through the door. Then she saw you and ran over to give you a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here! When did you get here? It’s kind of early…”

She took a step back and wrinkled her nose. “Please don’t take this the wrong way because you know I love you, but you reek of stale beer and cigarette smoke. And your eye! What happened to your eye?”

You forced a laugh. “Yeah, Bucky here was kind enough to come rescue me from an overzealous night out.” Your eyes darted over to him and you could see in his face that you didn’t have to worry about him telling her what happened. You didn't have a problem telling her you were arrested, but then she would want to know why and there’s no way you were going to tell her what triggered your temper when seeing her smile these days was so rare.

Wanda took a seat and began to eat to your relief. She’d lost so much weight, but she finally looked to be putting some back on. You caught Bucky’s eye and smiled. He smiled back. 

Today will be better than yesterday, you tell yourself.


	2. Moving Day

You puttered around the compound for part of the morning in some extra clothes you’d left stashed in the dresser, in no rush to go back to your quiet place. It still felt weird for it to be noisy and bustling again, full of people helping coordinate efforts to assist returnees who had returned to a world that had tried to move on without them. Not everyone was able to jump right back into their lives. Jobs were gone, business folded, houses foreclosed or destroyed by looters, spouses remarried- there was a lot to do, a lot of people struggling. 

You knew you should probably throw yourself into these efforts as you had before, but after Nat and Tony, you’d felt the need to step away for a while. Tony had left you well taken care of financially when you’d stepped up after the snap, so money wasn’t an issue. 

“Heard you had an interesting night,” said a voice from behind you.

You spun and glared at Steve. “Bucky has a big mouth.”

“He wasn’t gossiping. He was worried. He cares about you. So do I.”

Steve followed you outside where both of you took a seat on a bench. You struggled not to stare at his now equally foreign and familiar wrinkled face. 

“You got arrested. It’s time to talk.”

“Did Bucky tell you why?”

“Yes, and I understand, but the drinking has got to stop.”

“Jesus Christ. I’m not an alcoholic. I don’t even drink every day.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not a problem. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize how bad it was getting before. Natasha was concerned, but…”

“Half the universe disappeared. You guys had more important things to deal with than me. And I’m fine. I was fine. I will be fine.”

“Yes, you will be fine. And we will be here to support you.”

You groaned and threw yourself against the back of the bench. “How many lifetimes must you live before you stop being Captain America, Steve? You don’t have to save everybody all the time.”

“I may be taking a step back from saving the world, but I’m going to do what I can for my friends. Come on. Buck and I are going to lunch. Come with us.”

You perked up for a moment at the thought of meeting up with Bucky, but immediately became suspicious.

“This isn’t a tag team thing, right? Lunch isn’t an intervention is it?”

“No, it’s not. But this issue isn’t dead. We will be talking again.”

***

Lunch was at a local pizza parlor. You refrained from ordering a beer to make a point. 

“See. I don’t drink all the time.”

“I know you aren’t drinking all the time. But when you do...Listen, I said this wouldn’t be an intervention so let’s not get into this right now.”

Bucky looked at you and chewed his lower lip. You could tell he wanted to say something, but he looked down at the menu instead. Fortunately, the rest of the meal consisted of lighthearted conversation.

“I miss Gizmo,” you said and Bucky started laughing.

“Gizmo was your pet goat in Wakanda?” Steve asked.

“He was my attack goat. Slept in my bed and made sure nobody messed with me.”

“That goat was nuts,” Bucky said, reaching for the parmesan shaker. “Always trying to eat my shoes.”

“Well, that’s because you had smelly feet.”

Bucky looked offended. “I did not. And still do not.”

You grinned and he tossed a balled-up napkin at your face. 

“Now, kids.”

“Hush, Grandpa.”

Bucky snorted. “I can’t tell you how refreshing it is that these days Steve is the only one getting called Grandpa.”

“Just for that, you can get the bill,” Steve replied.

***

Bucky first dropped Steve off at a meeting for bereaved spouses, then headed the car toward your apartment. He surprised you in the parking lot by pulling into a space and getting out with you. 

“Are you staying to hang out?”

“No, I’m coming to help you pack.”

“For what?”

“I want you to come back to the compound. Just for a little while.”

“Bucky, why? I moved out to get a break.”

“Well you had one. And I don’t think it’s really helping.”

“But- I can’t just- “

“Yes, you can.”

You were torn between your irritation at him springing this on you and the realization that you really didn’t want to be alone here anymore.

“Please,” Bucky said, stepping directly in front of you and looking down into your face. “I miss you. We spent so much time together in Wakanda and I don’t get to see you that much here. I know it’s not fair to you because you had years of me being gone, but for me, I feel like it just happened. That we just suddenly stopped hanging out overnight. And I realize how selfish this sounds because I literally did that to you-”

“You didn’t do anything to me. That wasn’t your fault, you big dummy. Yes, I will move back. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it will be good for me.”

“I’m always right,” he called back, already halfway up the steps to your second floor apartment. 

***

Turned out Bucky really had planned ahead. He ended up having a bunch of flattened boxes in his trunk, and while you didn’t take everything that day, he was able to stuff his car the brim with the most important items. He said he’d get the rest taken care of. You climbed into the passenger seat with your cat Chunk safely ensconced in a carrier in your lap.

Bucky looked at you so happily as you buckled your seat belt that you couldn’t help feeling some of those old emotions surge. 

Then his eyes moved to Chunk.

“Now you’re sure that’s a cat, right?”

“What? What else would it be?”

“A flerkin,” he replied seriously.

“What the hell is a flerkin?”

“Something Carol was telling me about.”

“It’s just a cat, you ding dong.”

“Hey, I had to be sure. There’s a lot of weird shit these days that wasn’t around in my time.”

“This is your time now,” you said softly.

He smiled, the lines around his eyes creasing.

“Yes, it is.” And he started the car.


	3. Bad Memories

Even with your eyes closed, the sun shone brightly. You stretched your legs out so they extended off the blanket into the cool grass, your book abandoned beside you. The present began to slip away until the low whir of a motor began to buzz nearby.

Your eyes popped open and your hand shielded them from the worst of the glaring light. Redwing was hovering nearby. You gave the device the double finger and you could hear Sam’s laughter from a distance. Redwing swooped down, nabbed your book and took off.

“Give that back, asshole!” you yelped, as Sam began to make his way toward you. 

“I found him,” he smirked at you. 

“Guess I should have hidden it better,” you shot back.

You’d put Redwing in storage after Sam had gone with the others. After his return, you’d played as if you’d hidden it intentionally to screw with him, but the truth was, you just didn’t remember where you’d put it in the midst of your overwhelming grief. 

“Stop calling Redwing ‘it,’” Sam glared.

“Give me my book.”

“Steve said you went to lunch with him and Bucky yesterday.”

You immediately felt guarded about what Sam was going to say, but he didn’t mention the drinking.

“So you and Steve are talking again? That’s good,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I just needed some time to process his...choice. What’s done is done, though. He deserves happiness.” You tried to mean it as you said it.

“I told him you’d come around. He was worried.”

“I’m just saying a heads up would have been nice, but hey, whatever. What’s a few decades in the grand scheme of things, right?” Without meaning to, the bitterness rose in your voice, so you cleared your throat and changed the subject.

“So what’s up, Sammy?”

“I want to put you on one of the teams working with returnees. Job placement, finding homes, coordinating cleanup and repair teams...whatever you think suits you.”

“I can do that. Isn’t Clint running the organized crime team?”

“That team is pretty full. Seems everyone wants to help take down the mob groups that rose up in the aftermath. And you’re not a combatant.”

“I can track suspects and help on the technical end.”

“I’ll talk to him, but be thinking about what else you’d like to do, just in case.”

Sam’s eyes shifted to look past you. “Here comes old blue eyes. Emphasis on the old.”

You turned in time to see Bucky flip Sam the bird.

“Alright, I gotta get back, but Barnes here can help you weigh the pros and cons of the teams.”

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked as he sprawled across your soft blue blanket.

“Fill ‘em in,” Sam said before saluting and turning back to the building. 

“Sam wants me to pick a recovery team.”

“Good. We need you.”

“I want to join Clint’s team.”

“I hope he said no.”

“What is with you guys and not wanting me on that team?”

“Too dangerous.”

“I’m not asking to go in on the busts. I can do behind the scenes, surveillance and what not.”

“I think you’d be good working with the people who have been displaced. You can be very comforting...when you want to be.” He gave a sly grin.

“I’m a mess. How can I help people?”

“You were good for me in Wakanda. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” he said, looking at you softly.

“That was a long time ago,” you mumbled.

You laid down and caught a whiff of Bucky’s familiar shampoo. Lying on a blanket with him in the sun, you suddenly felt as if you were back in Wakanda. You remembered one particular picnic in which you had to help him open the food containers as he adjusted to only having one arm. That had been the first time you realized your feelings for him were turning into more than friendship.

It happened quickly, the panic settling in.

 

You’re back in Wakanda, battle raging outside. It becomes oddly quiet. You spin to ask Shuri what's happening, but dust hovers in the air before you. It’s everywhere. You’re running. Outside. People are screaming. Others are horrified, mouths open, silent. Watching those around them fade away. You’re running running running. Branches scratch your face and arms, tear at your clothes. 

“Where is he?” someone is yelling.

Okoye stumbles into the clearing and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her look lost, as if she has no idea what to do.

Steve is turning, looking at his hands in shock. They’re dirty. You recognize Bucky’s weapon on the ground near his feet and you stumble over. Steve stares at you blankly. 

“We lost. Oh my God, we lost,” you hear someone say. You’re on the ground next to the gun screaming, pulling grass and chunks of dirt wildly, as if Bucky is waiting for you just underneath the surface.

 

Then you were back in the present, struggling to catch a breath. You were in Bucky’s lap, his arms wrapped around you, gently rocking you back and forth, hot breath in your ear telling you that you were okay.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re safe.”

You barely registered his lips on your forehead, between assurances that he had you and everything would be okay. He coached you to take some deep breaths, asking you simple distracting questions until your heart stopped pounding.

Panic attack over, you slumped against his chest as he stroked your hair. Your fingers fumbled with his shirt, assuring yourself that he was still inside it. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky. Thank you.”

“How many times did you do this for me? Don’t apologize. This is what friends do.”

Friends. You squeezed your eyes shut at that word.

He settled back pulling you onto his chest, his arms still around you.

“Please talk to me. Or if not me, someone,” he whispered.

The words spilled out before you could stop them. “I wanted to die. I wished I’d been taken, too.”

His arms tightened around you and you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

You recalled how your brain had shut down as you realized what had truly taken place, choosing to stop processing reality. That you’d called your mom to cry over the loss of your friends and hadn’t understood why she wasn’t answering. Then you dialed your brother to no avail. Finally your dad picked up but you couldn’t understand anything he was saying through his screaming and crying. Even your best friend from college. Her boyfriend had answered, demanding to know if you knew where she’d gone because he’d looked everywhere.

“I’m so grateful that you made it through,” he said, cheek pressed to the top of your head. “If you hadn’t been here when I got back, I don’t know what I would have done. You’re still my rock.”

“How can I be your rock now? Bucky, I know I’m a fucking mess.”

“Remember what you used to tell me when I said stuff like that?”

“That’s different.”

“How? Both of us had trauma inflicted on us that was beyond our control.”

“I should have been better. Been stronger for the last few years.”

“You are strong. And I’m going to be there for you every step of the way. Just like you were for me.”

You woke sometime later to the gentle sway of Bucky carrying you inside, but kept your eyes closed and snuggled into him, pretending to still be sleeping.

You gave in and peeked at him as he took your shoes off and pulled the covers over you. 

“I knew you were awake,’ he chuckled.

“I love you, Bucky,” you said, knowing he wouldn’t understand the full depth of your words.

“I love you, too, doll,” he leaned over and pecked your forehead. “You’re my best friend. Don’t tell, Steve, though.” He winked and you forced a smile, even as your heart broke for the millionth time.


	4. Near Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of angst...sorry.

“Clint, let me on the team.”

Clint waved you off. “I don’t think this is the best spot for you.”

“Really? Who do you think helped keep tabs on you the last few years?”

Clint sighed. “I know you are capable, but this stuff is really ugly and you’ve been through enough.”

“So have you. We all have. Oh, I get it. Sam told you to tell me no.”

Clint ignored you.

“Didn’t he?”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “”Everyone told me to tell you no.”

“Define everyone.”

“Sam. Steve. Bucky. Wanda. Bruce. Shall I go on?”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“Look, I’m only sticking around myself for a few months and them I’m done. I don’t want to be here myself. I’m going back to my family. For good. Now go help good people who need you.”

You stormed back toward the kitchen slamming into Steve on the way. He actually teetered for a split second and you snorted.

“I think I might actually be able to take you now, geezer.”

“You just surprised me. Don’t get cocky.”

“So it looks like all of you have blackballed me with Clint so I guess I’m off to Habitat For Humanity or whatever the hell you guys think I’m suited for.”

“You’re not bla-” Steve pinches his nose in frustration. “Look, blame me. I said I wanted you working with the displaced because I saw the effect you had on Bucky. You broke through his barriers, cared - care - about him deeply and now you are one of the most important people in his life. If you can help him after what he went through, I think you can help anyone.”

“It’s different with him,” you say, staring at the floor.

“Why?”

“Nevermind. Fine. Housing. Cool. I’ll help people find homes.”

Steve smiled proudly.

“So are those still your real teeth or do you have dentures?”

“I think I liked it better when you weren’t speaking to me.”

***

You wandered by Wanda’s room to say hi, but she’d left the door cracked and you could hear her inside talking about her day. You were about to knock when you realized she was alone inside and speaking to Vision. You left her alone to cope in her own way.

Without realizing it, you found yourself at the door to Tony’s workshop. You slowly opened the door to the expansive room that no longer needed to be locked, secrets and inventions no longer hidden inside. Your fingers traced the empty surfaces, leaving trails in the dust. 

“You okay?” said a voice from the door.

Startled from your reverie, you jerked your head up.  
“Hey, Rhodey. Yeah, I just- I have no idea why I’m in here, actually.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he nodded.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you later.” You scurried past him through the door, his eyes burning on your back as you rushed down the hall.

***

Dinner in the kitchen that night included Wanda, Bucky, Steve, Bruce, and Sam.

You poured yourself a glass of wine from the bottle Wanda had opened, and noted she was barely sipping at hers. Conversation focused carefully on light topics. You giggled when Bruce got over excited about a breakthrough in the lab and accidentally crushed his glass with his large green hand.

A second glass and you were utterly giddy as Sam talked about the face full of dirt he took in a crash landing trying out new equipment earlier.

The third had Bucky staring at you with his irritating sad eyes that you suddenly wanted to punch out of his face, so you stepped out onto the terrace with it. Sam was the one to follow you.

“I have someone for you to talk to.”

“I’m talking to you right now.”

“You know what I mean. First appointment is tomorrow.”

“Sam-”

“It’s not an option.”

“You can’t exactly force me to talk to a therapist.”

“And yet, that’s what you will be doing tomorrow at 10 am.”

“Or what?”

“Please don’t make me go there. I don’t want to do the tough love with you. Please don’t make me do that.”

“Captain America should never beg.”

“I have the shield. I’m not Cap- No. No. I’m not letting you do that. You can’t distract me. And you have to go.”

You stared into the glass, the bottom visible once again.

“Okay.”

You stayed outside until everyone had moved on to other rooms. On the way back to your bedroom, you swiped Wanda’s barely touched glass.

***

A warm bath would be just the thing, you thought, pacing around your room, brain swimming but restless. You stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the water. You dropped the bottle of bubble bath twice in your haze and the tub started to overfill quickly.

You struggled from your clothes and slipped under the water. The combination of heat and alcohol soon had you fading from consciousness, until the dreams took over. Natasha was on the other side of a large room, but the faster your tried to walk over to her, the farther away she seemed. There was banging, as if on a door. Maybe someone calling your name? You couldn’t rouse yourself to figure it out. There was a loud splintering sound and Natasha faded away. Suddenly you were cold and weightless, all your sensations were confusing.

Your name again. Over and over. You opened your eyes. Bucky? 

“What happened?” you groaned.

“You weren’t answering your door!” he yelled. “What the hell were you thinking!”

“I was just taking a bath. Why are you mad?”

“You passed out! Your goddamn mouth and nose were practically the only thing still above water. You could have died!” His voice seemed to be getting louder, though maybe you were just imagining it. You couldn’t quite focus on him.

The chill in the air made you cognizant of the fact that you were naked as Bucky clutched you to his body, slumped against the wall in the corner of the bathroom. He, too, realized this when he saw you glance down at yourself. His hand flew to the rack and yanked a towel down to cover you. 

He got up still carrying you. You almost protested, but closed your mouth at the intense - was it anger? - in his face. He placed you on the bed and walked over to the dresser.

“Which drawer had your pajamas?” he asked gruffly.

“Third from top,” you replied meekly. 

He pulled out a tank top and soft sweats.

“Can you, ummm...top drawer. Whatever pair is on top.”

Bucky tossed you your blue cotton panties with flowers and kept his back to you while you dressed.

“I’m dressed,” you whispered.

He didn’t turn around, just continued to stare at the dresser.

“Bucky?”

No answer.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to scare you,” you begged sorrowfully.

He sniffled and when he turned around, his eyes were wet. 

Your lower lip trembled at the sight and a tear trickled down your cheek.

“Bucky,” you said, voice cracking.

He shook his head and stripped off his soaking wet shirt, followed by his jeans which were also damp. He was down to his boxers.

He handed you a water bottle and made you drink it. 

“Now get in bed and sleep it off.” He sat down in a chair and pulled a blanket over him.

You stared open mouthed. “Are you staying in here?”

“I don’t trust you to leave you alone right now.” His face was hard, but you saw his mouth tremble for a second. 

You crawled under the covers compliantly, not daring to argue. “Please don’t sleep on the chair, Bucky. There’s room. I feel awful. Please. I can’t let you sleep on a chair.”

He considered it for a moment then nodded. He climbed into bed with the blanket around him, joining you under the comforter. 

“Go to sleep,” he commanded again. In spite of yourself, you drifted off shortly after, and when you woke around 2 am, Bucky was nestled against your back, arm around your waist. You laid awake for at least an hour wrestling with the guilt of scaring him so badly and how incredible it felt to wake up in his arms again. He had crawled into your bed for comfort after nightmares a few times back in Wakanda and for your nightmares after he returned, and once again you experienced intense feelings of desire that you didn’t dare act on. 

When the time came that you could no longer ignore your bladder, you carefully extracted yourself from his arms. He rolled over with a grunt. You tried to climb back in just as stealthily, but his eyes popped open and met yours.

“Are you okay?”

“Just had to go to the bathroom.”

You laid down as close as you dared without touching him, unsure if he was aware he had been spooning you. He answered that question when he pulled you into his chest again, followed a few moments later by his gentle snoring. You place your hand flat on his broad, muscular chest and shivered, trying to stay awake to watch the rise and fall, but next thing you knew, you were waking up alone.


	5. Cards on the Table

Talking about your drinking habits while hungover did nothing to help your churning stomach, but you’d walked into Dr. Nielsen’s office with newfound resolve. The terror in Bucky’s face had broken your heart. All you’d ever wanted to do for him was take away his pain, and instead you’d inflicted more. It was time to get your shit together.

So you told Dr. Nielsen about what had occurred the night before.

“This is good,” she said. “I can’t say it’s all that common for me to have people walk into my office this ready to take responsibility for the changes they need to make, but it sounds like last night was a turning point.”

You paused and then decided to just lay all your cards on the table. Why not? Apparently you’d almost died last night and the doctor had to respect confidentiality. 

“I love him. I can’t hurt him again.”

“Relationships are important and it’s good that you recognize that you are hurting the people you love and want to change that. But it’s also important that you make these changes for yourself. You can’t base your recovery on making other people happy. This has to be about you getting better for you.”

You nodded. 

“Does he know the nature of your feelings for him?”

“He knows I love him, but not that I, you know, am in love with him.”

“Have you considered telling him how you feel?”

“He doesn’t see me like that. And he’s too important to me to ruin things or make it awkward. I can’t do that to him. Friendship is everything to him. I can’t lose him again. I really would die this time.”

“Do you really think you’d lose him?”

“I could mess up what we have.”

Dr. Nielsen nodded and shifted the conversation back to coping mechanisms. By the time you left, you were ready to find Bucky and apologize.

***

“There you are.”

Bucky didn’t turn around, just continued to pick at the dirt next to him as he stared out over the lake.

Steve sat next to him.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Everything okay?”

Bucky cleared his throat but continued to stare straight ahead. A gentle breeze rustled his hair and he tucked it behind his ear.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Or you could tell me the truth,” Steve said.

“I found her last night,” Bucky said, voice cracking. “In the bathtub. I thought she was already dead for a second.”

“Oh my God. Is she okay?”

“Yeah. She’d passed out, but was almost completely submerged. If I hadn’t gone to check on her…”

“I saw Sam. He confirmed that she showed up for her appointment this morning. We’ll get her through this, Buck.”

“What if I can’t help her the way she needs, Stevie?” Bucky turned to face him for the first time, revealing red, puffy eyes. 

“I know that you can. Just be there for her, like you have been. You mean the world to her.”

Bucky scrubbed his face with his hand. “I can’t lose her.”

“You aren’t going to lose her. We won’t let that happen.”

***

You were getting frustrated. You’d covered the entire compound with no sign of Bucky. He must be somewhere on the grounds, which encompassed a lot of territory. You wandered down the path that circled the property, in hopes of running into him, your mind drifting back to the first time you’d met him.

You’d accompanied Tony to Vienna insisting that your administrative duties could wait and he might need an assistant. Really you just wanted to keep an eye on the tense situation with Steve over the Accords, hoping you could in some way help negotiate peace between your two friends. You opposed the Accords, but if Tony wasn't listening to Cap, he surely wasn’t hearing you. 

You’d watched on the screen as James Barnes was interrogated, amazed at finally seeing the man Steve had told you so much about in person. Then the lights had gone out and everything went to hell.

Bucky had stormed right past you on his rampage, but you’d flattened yourself against a wall. Not perceiving a threat, he barely spared you a glance and kept going. After he disappeared, you’d gone outside to escape the pandemonium, and purely by coincidence, you ran smack into Steve and Sam hauling Bucky’s limp body away. They didn’t want you to go with them, but your idle threat to draw attention to their escape did the trick.

Sam drove and you were in the passenger seat. Steve was cramped in the back with Bucky sprawled across him in case he needed to be subdued again.

“If he wakes up, you get down onto the floor of the car up there,” Steve told you.

You kept sneaking peeks at the unconscious man. When he’d passed you earlier, he looked utterly terrifying. Now, with his face relaxed, he looked so soft and, well, handsome. Huge too. Photos of him in history books were of the slim man he’d been in the war. This guy was massive and could snap you in two without trying.

“Don’t go near him,” Sam told you curtly after they locked his arm in a vise in a warehouse.

You stared at the slumped over man and tried to equate him with the Bucky Barnes of Steve’s Brooklyn stories. It was hard to imagine.

He glanced at you a couple times as he told Sam and Steve about the other winter soldiers, but he asked no questions about who you were or why you were there. Afterward, the guys stepped away to confer and you took some tentative steps toward him. He watched you approach warily. You knew Sam and Steve would be pissed, but something about the way he’d smiled when talking about Sarah, Steve’s mom, told it would be okay. This was Steve’s Bucky now.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly.

He glanced at the vise and raised his eyebrow at you.

You blushed and reached into your bag for some wet wipes.

“I can clean the blood off your face.”

He looked surprised, but nodded. He flinched a bit at the initial contact, but not from pain. You gently wiped the blood and grime from his face as he stared at you in wonder. In Wakanda he would one day confess that you were the first person to touch him like that without inflicting pain since he could remember.

His big blue gray eyes followed your every move, and your heart pounded with nervousness, until you heard Sam’s shrill demand to know what the hell you were doing. Before you stepped away, you said, “It’s going to be okay, Bucky. Steve wants to help you.”

When they left for the airport, they also left you, saying it was far too dangerous to take you any farther. Bucky watched you until you were just a speck in the distance. You wouldn’t see one another again until he came out of cryo in Wakanda.

***

Steve was walking toward you. When you reached each other, he embraced you tightly.

“Bucky told you?”

Steve nodded.

The tears came before you could stop them. “I didn’t mean to scare him, Steve. I feel awful. Where is he?”

“By the lake. Go talk to him.”

Does he hate me?”

“He could never hate you. Go talk to him.”

You saw Bucky’s back straighten as you approached, indicating that he knew you were there. You took a seat next to him and reached nervously for his hand, terrified he would reject you. Instead he laced his fingers with yours and lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back.

“How was the appointment?”

“It was good, Bucky. I’m going to deal with my stuff. I promise. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. “I know, doll. I will be here for you every step of the way.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, finally feeling a sense of peace, if only for the moment.


	6. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Had to take a break to write some happy Bucky smut.

At some point you dozed off during the movie you were watching alone in the common room. 

It was one of those dreams where you know you’re dreaming, but it didn’t make the sight of Tony stomping around the purple polka dot kitchen any less painful.

He spun toward you and gestured to the sink. “Are you the one putting coffee grounds in here? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

You walked over and grabbed his wrist. He felt real, even though you knew he wasn’t.  
“Tony, I’m dreaming this, but I have an idea. Whenever I think I’m in a dream, I test it by trying to fly. If I lift off, I know I’m dreaming. Maybe if I take you with me, you will wake up in the real world with me.”

“I am Iron Man. I can fly in the real world,” he said turning back to pour his strawberry milkshake from the coffee pot.

You grabbed his wrist anyway and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling your feet lift from the ground, but when you opened your eyes, it was Nat’s arm you were holding.

She yanked from your grasp as you floated away. 

“It can’t be undone,” she called after you.

Tony put his arm around her shoulders as they watched you float away and then you were awake, tears streaming down your face, credits rolling on the screen. 

“Hey, hey,” Sam’s voice came soothingly from the other side of the room. “You were dreaming.”

He walked over and joined you on the couch. “Want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. “What time is it?”

“Almost 9.”

“I’m gonna go to bed,” you said, getting to your feet unsteadily.

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t-”

Sam cut you off by putting his arm around your shoulders and leading you to your door.

***

Going to bed so early resulted in you staring at the ceiling at 2am. After a healthy debate of left side, right side, you decided to go to the kitchen for a snack.

You threw a hoodie over your tank and shorts and padded to the door. As you opened it and stepped out, you glanced back to make sure your cat wasn’t poised to make a run for it for the thousandth time. Your foot connected with something large and unyielding and you pitched forward violently, a figure rising up to catch you in his arms and you landed on a solid chest.  
“What the hell are you doing, Bucky!”

You were stretched out over his prone figure, where apparently he’d been lying on the hall floor. His cheeks reddened as he looked up at you, arms still holding you pressed to his chest.

“I- I was- I wanted to be sure you were okay.”

“By sleeping outside my door?”

“I didn’t want to wake you. Sam said you’d gone to bed, but I just, you know, if something happened, or you had another nightmare.”

The sweetness behind his words almost brought tears to your eyes.

“Sorry. I thought I’d hear you coming and get out of the way, but Pepper invested in some quality carpet out here. I was pretty out.”

You almost made a joke about him being a terrible spy, but the softness in his face stopped you. Instead, you stood and offered him your hand, which he feigned using as help, but he really launched himself up into standing. His white t-shirt had ridden up, revealing a strip of his abdomen. You averted your eyes quickly, guilt crashing over you for having lustful thoughts when he was here trying to support you as a friend.

He followed you to the kitchen where you cut two slices of pecan pie. Bucky poured both of you a glass of milk and took a seat next to you at the island.

The two of you ate quietly, peacefully side by side and your mind began to wander to the possibilities. What if you told him right here and now? Just laid it all out in the open. Told him you loved him, that you’ve never felt this way about anyone in your life, that for the five years he was gone, you had felt as though a piece of your soul had been ripped away.

“You look like you’re having some deep thoughts about pie.”

You shot him a quick smile and looked back at your dessert. You remembered how in Wakanda, you knew he wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship because he was focused on his recovery. There was no way you would let your personal feelings interfere with something so important. And then when he’d returned- The memory hit you like a shock wave.

First you’d received devastating news about Nat and Tony from Steve. Steve had called you as soon as he could after they defeated Thanos and taken stock of everyone’s condition. You remembered collapsing against the window of your dad’s house where you’d been staring in amazement at a sudden proliferation of birds and squirrels. A deer had even streaked through the yard full speed for the first time in a couple years.  
Steve’s voice had cracked as he told you they were gone, that they had sacrificed themselves for everyone else.

You were silent, hearing him muffle sobs on the other end.

“It worked,” he finally whispered. “Everybody is back. Bucky. Bucky’s here with me.”

And then you curled up on the floor and the sobs wracked your body, but somehow kept the phone to your ear.

Then his voice. “Doll, are you there?”

When they’d landed at Tony’s lake home you’d launched yourself onto him, crying. He’d cried and you’d held each other. You’d kissed every inch of his face, soaking him with your tears. 

“I’m here now. I’m so sorry I left you.”

You had always regretted never telling him how you felt, but the shock of losing your friends kept you from doing it immediately, and then as time passed and everyone launched themselves into recovery efforts, you started second-guessing if it was the right thing to do. What if you only pushed him away? What if he didn’t see you as anything but a close friend? And the last five years had taken a toll. What if he didn’t want the current version of you?

You returned to the present. 

“Bucky, I...hope you know how much you mean to me.”

He put his hand over yours on the counter and nodded. “I do. I wouldn’t have made it without you, you know. I don’t deserve a friend like you.”

The words you were about to say died in your throat at his choice of words. You swallowed the lump and replied, “you deserve all the good things, Buck.”

***

For the next week you immersed yourself in therapy and the local housing project. Keeping busy really did help, and some of your anger at how the snap had affected you began to fade as you saw how others had suffered.

The first day you helped a family who had only recently been reunited. Both parents had disappeared, leaving the young kids without parents, a home or identification. The children, aged 18 months and 4, at the time had become separated and placed in different orphanages. Reuniting the millions of orphans with their families had been one of the biggest projects around the world, not to mention the collecting of millions of children who had reappeared from where they had faded away, but found themselves alone upon their return. 

The father had run his own lawn business, but there was nothing left of his equipment, nor was lawn care an immediate concern for most people. The mother’s company had gone under in the meantime and she returned to no job. Their home had been neglected for five years, and though the looters didn’t hit it, a tree had fallen on the roof during a storm leaving it subject to the elements and, therefore, unlivable. 

Now they sat in front of you, not complaining, but just thankful to be alive and together.

“We’re anxious to get in something long-term,” the dad told you. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

He glanced at his older daughter who smiled at him shyly and twirled her hair around her finger. 

***

There were some days when you debated pouring yourself a glass of wine to take the edge off, but you’d track someone down to hang out with and keep you distracted. If you weren’t alone, the fear of their judgement outweighed your urge to drink.

Today, however, was not your day.

You were working with a father and his two sons. They had all returned together to their backyard, only to discover their house in shambles. Mom was gone, succumbed to her anguish three years earlier. They completed their paperwork in silence.

Just one glass. You hadn’t had a drink for days. Only one. You’d earned it.

It went down like water. Two, three, four, five, six...you were pouring your glasses small to create the illusion of drinking less. Another bottle opened as you huddled under the blanket on the roof. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

You gasped and set the glass down on the ground on the far side of Bucky, hoping he wouldn’t spot that or the bottle, a naive thought produced by your intoxicated state.

He took a seat on the chaise lounge and looked at you.

“Hey, Buck.”

His eyes closed and stayed that way for several seconds. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart.”

“What?”

“You think I can’t smell that? Hear it in your voice? You are wasted.”

Arguing was pointless. “Today was hard. And I haven’t had anything in almost two weeks, Bucky!”

He held his hand out for the remainder of the bottle. “I know that’s number two. I can’t let you finish that.”

“I’m an adult, Bucky.”

“You aren’t acting like it.”

“Fuck you!”

“Goddammit. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I know you’re trying. But please give me the bottle.”

You handed it to him sullenly and he chucked it as hard as he could against the wall. It shattered, glass everywhere, burgundy dripping down the brick.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, mouth hanging open.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I just did it. Let’s go. I’ll clean this up tomorrow.”

He led you downstairs, to his room this time. After that display, you didn’t dare argue.

He tossed you a shirt and sweatpants, both which overwhelmed your body.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

“I need to brush my teeth.”

He sighed and led you to the bathroom where he pulled out a spare toothbrush and you brushed side by side, you swaying slightly from the alcohol. Then he climbed into the bed behind you spooning you. Your head was swimming and you turned around to face him. Without realizing what you were doing at first, you began to stroke his scruff. He let you, just watching you quietly. Then you ran your fingers along his jawline, until you reached his ear. You slid your hand around to the back of his neck and pressed your lips to his. 

He was hesitant at first, but he opened his mouth when your tongue prodded at his lips. You pressed your body to his and he stiffened, but then partially relaxed. His hand moved to your hair, gently stroking it.

Your lips moved to his jaw, then his neck.

“Sweetheart.” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice, but you kept going, kissing his chest over his t-shirt, letting your fingers dance over the skin just above the waistband of his sweats. Your next move was abrupt and unexpected. Your hand slid to his crotch and you were shocked to discover he was rock hard. Instantly, you slid your body down as you fumbled to free his cock, ready to take him in your mouth. But before you could make contact, his hands tightened around your shoulders and he hauled you back up.

“Stop. We need to stop.”

“But- but I want to.”

“We can’t. Go to sleep, please.”

“Don’t you want me even a little bit? Just for tonight?” You hated what you were hearing come out of your mouth. You felt pathetic.

“You are drunk. I can’t let you do something like this. I shouldn’t have let it even get that far. That’s on me.”

You felt yourself crumbling as you turned your back to Bucky and curled up in a ball, tears soaking the pillow.

“We’ll talk tomorrow. We’re long overdue for that,” he said gently, curling up behind you. “Don’t be sad. Please?”

You nodded and sniffled, eventually drifting off with Bucky’s warm breath on your neck.

When he got up to use the bathroom around 6am, you took advantage of the moment to escape your humiliation.


	7. Wakanda

“It means a lot to me that you are willing to do this since I can’t be here all the time,” Steve said. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m happy to do it. I always wanted to live abroad and here I am with my own little hut in Wakanda and- Get out of here!” You chased one of the unruly baby goats out, grabbing your shoe from its mouth before it took off. 

“That damn goat won’t stay out of here.”

“He likes you,” Steve grinned.

Steve sat at the small kitchen table. “Are you sure you’re comfortable? I would never leave you here like this if Shuri hadn’t assured me the programming was removed and that it was safe, but your safety is paramount. The Winter Soldier trigger words are gone, along with the arm, but he still has the serum and decades of trauma to deal with. You have to promise me not to put yourself in compromising situations. If he seems unstable or violent, anything-you get away and contact Shuri immediately.”

You nodded.

“Let’s go talk to him.” He stood and you followed him out the door and across the field to the nearest home where Bucky was staying.

“Buck?” Steve called. “You decent?”

You started a little when Bucky ducked through the door, his height far exceeding the frame. He was wearing traditional Wakandan clothing, his shoulder covered where his arm should be. His hair had grown longer and he’d lost a great deal of muscle mass, though he was still ripped. 

His eyes lit up with recognition the instant he saw you.

“Hi,’ he said with a small smile. “I remember you.”

You smiled back at him, “I remember you, too.” You cringed when you realized how stupid that sounded. Of course you remembered the guy who was locked in a vise after a deadly rampage. You quickly shifted the subject.

“These goats are something else. I think one of the babies has adopted me. He’s trying to move in with me.”

“Well, you’re in the right place if you’re looking for a job herding goats and super soldiers.”

His smile was bigger this time and your heart leapt. He was beautiful, you thought. Even more beautiful than those old black and white photos you’d pored over after your first meeting.

Steve left a few days later to check in with the others who had taken up a variety of hiding spots.

Today was the first time you’d be alone with Bucky. You approached his door carrying a large dish with your first attempt cooking local cuisine.

“This could be terrible,” you warned him as he led you inside.

“Well it smells amazing.”

To your relief, lunch turned out not half bad. Bucky certainly had no complaints, wolfing down seconds and thirds.

The goat you now allowed to sleep in your house wandered inside after you and tried to steal one of Bucky’s sandals, which you managed to rescue before any damage was done.

“Beat it, Gizmo,” Bucky said affectionately. Gizmo turned to him and maaahhhhed aggressively before running out. 

“There’s something I need to talk to you about now that Steve is gone,” Bucky said, turning serious.

“What’s up?”

His body language turned nervous and he looked a little embarrassed.

“When I first got here, before cryo and the deprogramming, I was afraid of hurting someone. I insisted on a fail safe in case something happened.” He held up a device. “It attaches behind my ear and once it’s on, only Shuri can remove it. This is the remote. If something happens- If I become dangerous, I want you to push this button.”

“What happens to you?”

“It incapacitates me.”

“How?”

He chuckles. “Very unpleasantly. I made Shuri demonstrate it on me.”

“No. No way. You don’t need it, Bucky. Shuri has run every test in the book. The programming is gone.”

“I know, but I have nightmares, flashbacks, stuff like that. I don’t want to risk lashing out at you.”

“There is no way in hell I’m going to inflict pain on you over your psychological trauma. I promise to stay away if needed, but so far Shuri says you’ve done great. No violent outbursts. You are supposed to be working on trusting your own mind again. A shock collar, or whatever the fuck this is, doesn’t help with that.”

“I don’t want to to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“I’m putting it on.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He reached out for the device and you slapped it away. Gizmo came out of nowhere picking it up in his teeth and taking off. You and Bucky stared after him in shock, before he jumped to his feet.

“Shit, we can’t let him eat that!”

The two of you tore across the field, cornering the goat against a bale of hay. Bucky secured him in his arm while you pried the damaged electronic from his mouth.

“Gizmo, you big dum dum. Thank you,” you said, before releasing him.

“Oh man, I thought we were going to be eating fried goat stew tonight for a minute there,” Bucky snorted.

You smacked his arm. “And you wanted me to use that on you!”

“It’s not nice to hit a one-armed man in the arm, you know.”

You laughed and on a whim, leaned in to wrap him in a hug. His arm circled your waist and squeezed you back. You couldn’t see his face as his eyes squeezed shut to hide his emotion and he inhaled the scent of your hair.

***

After leaving Bucky’s room, you stopped by yours only long enough to throw on different clothes. Your embarrassment over the previous night propelled you to avoid anywhere Bucky might look for you. As luck would have it, you ran into Clint.

“Where are you off to so early?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“But I’m trained not to give up the answer at any cost, so I would win,” he teased.

“I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Well in that case, want to go with me to see Laura and the kids?”

“I’d love to, but that’s a little far…”

“Nah, they’re closer than you think. I have a set up so I could assist with the recovery.”

Well that made sense. You’d been surprised at his willingness to stay rather than immediately return to his family farm.

“Let’s go then.”

“So how are things?” he asked when you’d been driving for a while.

“They were better. Then they weren’t.”

“Setbacks happen. It’s normal.”

“And you? How are you doing?”

Clint was quiet for a minute. “I just take it one day at a time.”

You nodded.

“I’m glad I ran into you though. I’m wrapping up as team leader next week. It’s time to take the family home.”

“Oh,” you murmured. “I knew this day was coming, and I’m glad for you, but I’m really going to miss you.”

“You know you can come anytime. Get away whenever you need.”

“Thanks, Clint.”

“So you want to talk about whatever happened to have you wandering around the compound at 6 am?” he asked.

You sighed. “I think I ruined my relationship with Bucky last night.”

“I doubt that. You two are way too close for that.”

“I fucked up and got really drunk. I crossed the line and I don’t know how I’m ever going to look at him again. Or how he’s going to look at me.”

“Not to sound flippant, but if anyone can understand not being in his right mind and doing things he regrets-”

“You don’t understand, I- “ you stopped, too embarrassed to continue.

“Look, whatever you said, I’m sure can be fixed. I’ve seen the guy in a fight and I’ve seen him with you. You’re special to him. Man gets all soft. Promise me you’ll talk to him.”

You nodded. “I promise.”

***

Clint returned you to the compound that evening after a long, pleasant day at his hidden cabin in the woods. You weren’t sure exactly where because he’d made you wear a blindfold for part of the trip.

As soon as you climbed out of the car, your stomach curled up in knots again. You weren’t ready to face Bucky yet, so you stood there frozen unsure where to go that he wouldn’t find you.

Once again, you underestimated the highly-trained former assassin.

“I tell you we need to talk and you go into hiding?”

You spun around to face him, unable to form words. His expression was unreadable.

He placed his hand on your back urging you to the path that led to the lake and the two of you started to walk in silence. After several minutes, you finally managed to murmur, “I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“For what?”

“Crossing the line like that.”

By now the two of you had reached the lake and he reached out to urge you to face him. 

“Was last night just the alcohol talking?”

Your mouth opened and closed several times, unable to speak. Your face reddened and you looked at the ground. Finally you shook your head. “No, Bucky. I’m- You-”

“I love you, doll.”

Your head jerked up. “I know you do, Bucky, but for me it’s more than a friendship.”

“No, I love you. I’m in love with you. I was in love with you in Wakanda, but I wasn’t ready then.”

You felt dizzy and just stared at him with your mouth open, so he led you to a bench and you both sat. He placed his hands on your cheeks and leaned his forehead against yours.

“I had no idea I was going to lose five precious years with you. But I want to make the most of what we have now.” He tucked your hair back as he spoke. “If you want that with me, I mean.”

“Of course I want that,” you gasped, launching into his lap and hugging him around his neck. You pressed your face between his collarbone and jaw and inhaled his scent. “I love you so much, Bucky. And I’m going to get better for you.”

“No, you’re going to get better for you, sweetheart. And I’m going to support you, just like you supported me. Every step of the way.”

The kiss started out soft and sweet but quickly morphed into passionate hair tugging and hands everywhere. You pulled back breathless to appreciate Bucky’s pink, swollen lips, but awkwardly made eye contact over his shoulder with Peter who had just come strolling down the path. His eyes darted back and forth looking for an out.

“Uh, sorry Miss ummm, oh, Sgt. Barnes? Do you go by Sgt? Oh man, it’s a nice day, right? So, I’m just gonna… Okay, bye.” He took off in a jog and Bucky burst into laughter.

“Poor kid. I think we just gave him a bigger education than all of Steve’s PSAs put together.”

The two of you stayed past sunset, when he hoisted you onto his back and carried you back to the compound. You’d never felt lighter.


	8. Thanos is Coming

“Seriously, Buck. You look good. That’s a hell of an arm Shuri made for you.”

“After she removed all the wires and connections from the old one, the aches and pains went away and I would have been happy to never replace it, but this is incredible. It could easily be my actual arm. Almost.”

Steve smiled approvingly. “And how has everything else been?”

“Peaceful. Amazing. I’m ready to take this Thanos asshole down just so I can get back to it.”

Steve nodded toward you as you walked past with Nat, deep in conversation.

“And…”

Bucky blushed. “She’s amazing. Thank you so much for bringing her here.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow at the redness in Bucky’s cheeks, but before he could say anything, Bucky’s face turned serious.

“I don’t think she should be here right now though. I don’t want her hurt.”

Steve sighed. “I understand, but for one thing, I’ve known her longer and unless you intend to drug and drag her out of here, she isn’t going anywhere. For another, if Thanos gets past the massive counter attack we have planned...Jesus. It may not matter where she is.”

Bucky scrubbed his face with his hand and looked at you. You were gesturing excitedly in your conversation, too far even for him to make out what you were saying.

“I couldn’t handle it if something happened to her.”

“Don’t think about that right now, Bucky. It’s gonna work. It has to. I’m just sorry you’re getting dragged into this when you’ve been through so much.”

“Doesn’t do me any good to sit it out, if Thanos wipes out half the universe, does it?”

***

“We’re getting into position,” Bucky told you, giving his weapons one last check.

Your stomach was in knots, trying not to throw up.

“When I get back, we’ll have that picnic we were talking about. Gizmo can come if he promises not to eat the basket.”

You nodded, afraid your voice would betray the sobs you were holding back. You were terrified, not fully understanding what was coming, only that it was enough to instill fear in the bravest people you knew. Tony had already disappeared as a result of whatever the hell was happening and Vision was willing to risk self destruction to ward off the nightmare that was hurtling in from space.

Bucky pulled you into his chest and hugged you tightly. He thought about telling you right then and there. The way he felt about you. Even if you didn’t feel the same way, he wanted you to know. Just in case. But he talked himself out of it at the last second, vowing he would tell you as soon as he got back. He had worked so hard to find peace again. After all he’d been through, surely fate couldn’t be so cruel as to take it all away again.

***

“Open the door now.”

You opened it, well aware Nat would kick it in if you didn’t.

“Get your ass up. This bender is over and I need you to get back to work.”

You glared at her and crawled back into the bed, so she walked over and yanked your sheets back. In retaliation you rolled over and buried your face in your pillow, which she also pulled out from under you. 

Severely hungover and irritated, you rolled toward the wall and snuggled into your Bucky pillow. The second you felt Nat start to tug on it, something broke inside you.

“Nooooo! I need this!” you wrapped your arms around the t-shirt covered pillow and began to sob.

Nat immediately let go and crawled over to embrace you.

“I know you’re hurting. And I know how much you loved him, but I can’t sit back and let you keep destroying yourself. It has been two years. You have to try to move on.”

“I’m sorry, Nat. I’ve become just one more burden for you to bear.”

“You aren’t a burden. You’re my friend.” She gently took the Bucky pillow from you and placed it at the head of the bed. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

***

Bucky led you to your room after your evening by the lake. You barely let him get a word out before your limbs were tangled on your bed. He rolled you off of his chest so he could pin you to the mattress, only to come face to face with Pillow Bucky.

You could feel your face burning with mortification. 

“Is that my shirt?” he asked, pinching the fabric between his fingers.

“I took it from your house...after you...I just missed you.” You could barely hear your own voice.

“I’m so sorry for what you went through,” he replied, propping his head up with his vibranium arm and looking down at you with a mixture of regret and longing. 

“You went through so much worse. I shouldn’t complain-”

“Don’t do that to yourself. Your experience is yours alone.”

You traced his jaw with your fingers.

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, too.”

Your fingers scratched at his scalp as he kissed you. When he pulled away, you whined a little, making him grin.

“I have something to ask of you.”

“Anything, Bucky.”

“I want to sleep next to you and hold you tonight.”

“Well, I pretty much figured that was the plan.”

“But can we hold off on the other stuff just a little longer?”

“Oh. Oh. Of course, Buck. If you need time-”

“Not a lot of time. I’d just like to do something special for you, for us, and I figure we’ve waited this long…” His eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Well, you’ve waited longer, but...you know.”

“Ooooh, that’s so sweet. Mildly cruel, but sweet. I’d wait for you forever, Bucky.”

“Let’s not get crazy. I’m hoping for tomorrow night.”

He nuzzled into your neck and the two of you laid tangled together, reveling in the freedom of having finally expressed both your true feelings.

After a while, Bucky’s muffled voice asked you a question. “So are you and Steve totally good? I mean, I know you’re talking, but it still seems a little strained.”

You sighed. “Can it ever really be the same? He lived an entire life. He’s not the same person. I mean, he is, but decades change a person. I’m not mad at him and I’m glad he got his time with Peggy, but in some ways, he’s a stranger to me now.”

Bucky began to rub circles on your lower back. “I understand. It was one thing when I was the one who changed so much, and now we’re both so different. And yet, he’s still my Steve. Even with that wrinkly old-man face.”

You giggled and pecked Bucky’s lips. “And here you are, still the young, sexy ladies man.”

“I don’t know about any of that,” Bucky snorted. “But if people don’t stop freezing me and snapping me, I’m going to live forever and I’m really not on board with the idea of immortality. I just want to finally grow old. With you.”

“That makes me so happy,” you whisper.

“One condition. The pillow has to go. I don’t do threesomes.”


	9. Other People's Losses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally when I start a fic I plow through it. I've struggled much more than usual with this one. I think largely because the whole Avenger dynamic, everyone friends in the compound or tower, is such an enjoyable escape for me. Having Tony and Nat gone, Steve old etc...It's just not the same, you know? Don't worry! I won't leave this unfinished, I'm just fighting writer's block more than usual! We're near the end!

You tried to cover your antsiness as you walked people through the process of finding a home the next day, but it was hard to focus. Your mind kept drifting to the memories of kissing Bucky for hours the night before. Although the two of you had mostly held to the promise of going slow, his hands had still found their way under your bra, thumbs sweeping across your hardened nipples, his cock pressed against your leg invitingly.

“Oh my God, Bucky. If we keep going like this I’m going to explode from frustration.”

His fingertips slid down your stomach and lingered teasingly at your waistband. 

“Let me give you a preview of what I’m dying to do for you.”

“I thought you wanted to-”

“Just a preview,” he murmured, slowly slipping his fingers down to stroke at your slit through your cotton panties. “You get the rest tomorrow.”

You moaned and opened your legs wider, unable to resist as he nibbled on your neck, his flesh fingers slipping into your panties finally, sliding easily through your slick. Bucky moaned at how wet you were for him.

He slowly circled your clit and watched your face contort with pleasure. Your hips jerked as he slipped first one, then two fingers inside, pumping gently into you then returning to focus on your clit.

“I want to see you,” he said softly. “Want to watch you come for me.”

You moaned and grasped a handful of his shirt, pulling it up to display his abs. 

“Bucky... Bucky...Bucky...Fuck. Don’t stop.”

His fingers moved faster and your legs jerked as your pelvis lifted off the bed.

“Fuck. Bucky. Bucky!”

You came so hard you were actually left dizzy for a moment, followed by giggles and burying your face in Bucky’s chest, which was also heaving slightly.

“If that was the preview, I might not survive the show.”

He grinned. “Better than the pillow?”

You smacked him on the chest. “And what about you? Your preview?”

He shook his head. “Nope. It’s all about you.”

“But aren’t you…”

“I’ve fantasized about seeing you like that for so long that the sound of you screaming my name was plenty. I’m saving the rest for tomorrow.”

“But don’t you want to…finish?”

He laughed. “Baby, like I said, watching you come was enough.”

“You finished? But I didn’t even touch you!”

“That’s how fucking sexy you looked. That’s what you do to me. Don’t worry,” he winked. “I can hold out when I need to. Like tomorrow.”

Your mind returned to the present and you squirmed in your chair uncomfortably.

“Thank you, ladies. We will be in touch shortly,” you said, shaking hands with the two women before they gathered their two sons to leave.

A man who appeared to be in his late 40s, graying hair at his temples and a slight paunch under his flannel shirt, took their place across your table. He had a distant but sullen expression.

“Good morning, Mr. Bell,” you said, looking over his forms. “I see you’re looking for a one-bedroom accommodation for yourself. So I’m going to get the process started to get you there, however, I do need to let you know that it’s faster if you’re willing to take on a roommate.”

He glared at the table and sucked in a deep breath. You hesitated nervously, unsure how to proceed at his silence. You’d experienced a variety of emotions from the people you’d dealt with, but something was different this time.

His eyes slowly rose to meet yours, filled with anger and sadness. 

“I don’t want to live with some stranger. Like my life isn’t hellish enough.”

“I understand, sir,” you said in what you hoped was a soothing voice. “Even if you take a roommate, we will keep you on the list for your own place. It just gets you out of the shelter or wherever you’re staying faster.”

“Nothing. I have nothing,” he muttered.

“I get it,” you said. “It’s hard to come back to so much change-”

“Change?” he raised his voice. “Did you come back to find out your wife was with someone else? That she’d moved on? That your kids had moved out on their own and didn’t need you anymore? That you were all alone and had been better off as a pile of dust?”

People at other tables were watching the commotion now.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. You’re right. I know I can’t truly understand-”

“And at least you have a job! I have nothing. Nothing! And now I’m here with my savings long gone, not a damn thing to my name and forced to live with some stranger! Why did they bring me back? They should have left me dead!”

You could see a security moving toward you out of the corner of your eye.

The man also spotted the security guard who was edging closer. That was when his hand slipped into the pocket of his hoodie and he pulled out a small handgun, pointing it at you.

“I want my life back!” he screamed.

Instinctively you threw your hands in the air to assure him you weren’t a threat. 

The security guards drew their own weapons and pointed them at Mr. Bell.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, partially to the enraged man and partially to the guards.

“Put the gun down!” yelled a guard.

You cringed as he gestured wildly with the weapon continuing to scream about wanting his life back. The gun was no longer pointed at you so you started to duck under the table, but he saw you crouch and demanded that you stand up again. His finger was resting dangerously on the trigger as he waved it around. 

His face turned back to you and his eyes met yours. Just like that, he broke down. The anger faded away and his face turned to one of despair, tears coursing down his cheeks.

“I just want my family back,” he sobbed. 

“Last warning! Put the gun down NOW!” One of the guards lunged at the man and at the same time you felt the impact of a body taking you down from the side. The gun fired and your body stiffened in shock as you began to fall. The person falling with you gasped as gravity took over.

You struggled to process what was happening after hitting the ground. The body above you was shielding you, hair falling forward, shiny flash of metal as his hand came to your cheek.

“Are you okay, baby?”

You nodded at him, your brain still scrambling to keep up.

“I didn’t mean to!” Mr. Bell was yelling. “Is she okay? I didn’t mean to do that!”

Bucky grimaced as he lifted his head toward the guards who now had Mr. Bell lying prone on the ground. 

“She’s okay. She’s not hit.”

“Where did you come from?”

“I came by to surprise you and take you lunch,” Bucky said, pressing his lips to your forehead in relief. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him, but were startled by the small gasp of pain he emitted.

“Bucky, what’s wrong? Why is your back wet? Fuck!” you screamed as you realized your hand was covered in blood. 

He pulled himself into a sitting position, bringing you up with him. “I’m okay. I’ve been shot before. It’s not in a dangerous spot.”

“Your body is a dangerous spot,” you snapped, trying not to go into full panic mode. “We need a doctor!” 

“Walk me to the med bay,” he said calmly, as you tried to remove his black leather jacket. “Ow ow, baby. Calm down. Leave the jacket so I don’t scare the shit out of everyone walking around in bloody white t-shirt.”

“How can you be so calm?” you shrieked.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Bell sobbed. “I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”

Bucky gently disentangled himself from your fumbling panicked hands and walked over to kneel down next to him.

“I know you didn’t mean to do it. You’re scared and you’re in pain. But you could have killed someone. You could have killed the most important person in the world to me. I do know what it’s like to lose everything and how desperate it can make you feel. I’m sorry this happened to you. I truly am.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just… I just...I don’t know what happened.”

“Make it up to me by getting help. Talk to someone. Promise me?”

Mr. Bell nodded as the guards hauled him to his feet. 

***

Your lips and fingers traced every inch of Bucky’s back that evening as you lay on the bed paying no attention to the movie that was on. You paid special attention to the area surrounding the bandage where a bullet had lodged in his shoulder not far from the metal seam.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” he asked wryly.

“Of course. Your skin is so incredibly smooth and soft. You have this adorable little freckle right here. And you taste so sweet,” you replied, flicking your tongue over the back of his neck, making him shiver.

“I meant in the movie, but I’ll take it. Come over here. I want to look at you, but rolling over is a pain in the ass right now.”

You carefully climbed around him to lie down face to face, your fingers immediately moving to his stubbled jaw.

“I just really need to touch you, feel you right now,” you said, tearing up a little. 

“Come closer,” he whispered. You nuzzled into his bare chest and carefully put your arms around him. “Sorry I messed up our plans for tonight.”

“How dare you take a bullet for me, you bastard.”

“There’s no such thing as a perfect man, sweetheart. You’ll have to take me as I am,” he said with a chuckle.

“I love you so much,” you said, inhaling his scent deeply.

“I love you, too.” 

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you murmured, “Guess you guys should have let me on Clint’s team after all.”

"Keep it up and you'll be sleeping with that damn pillow again."


End file.
